


At the Edge of Something New

by miss_grey



Series: What We Do In The Dark [34]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Fluff, Found Family, M/M, Sharing Clothes, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Werewolves, demon ron speirs, everyone looks good in plaid y'all, hunter carwood lipton, hunter dick winters, vampire nix, witch gene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-30 04:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20808530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_grey/pseuds/miss_grey
Summary: Decisions, decisions.





	At the Edge of Something New

**Author's Note:**

> I'm feeling so much better after being sick for almost 2 weeks! I hope you all enjoy the chapter :)

“Harry.” Dick said, phone pressed to his ear, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Dick. Hey,” Harry began, chipper as ever. “What’s up?”

“Nix told me he spoke to you the other night,” Dick said, staring at said vampire from across the kitchen. Nix smiled serenely at him and took a gulp of blood. Breakfast.

“Ah.” Harry replied, tone changing slightly. “Yeah, we did. He offered his services as translator and intelligence gatherer. Why?”

Nix quirked a brow at him over the rim of the bottle and Dick had to fight to keep the slight frown on his face. “What do you think about it?”

Dick could practically hear Harry’s shrug through the phone. “If he can and he’s willing, I don’t see why not. You know how it goes, Dick. Help is in short supply in our line of work.”

“How would the others react, do you think?”

Harry snorted. “You know ‘em as well as I do, Dick. They’re hunters. They’re gonna be wary at least. But he’s on the no-touch list, and the boys know it. Why? He thinking of being helpful sooner rather than later?”

At the playful tone, Dick scowled. Nix snorted and shook his head, slightly. He could, of course, hear every word that Harry said and apparently found it funny. “He wants to visit Currahee.”

The line was silent for a minute, then, and Nix’s smile actually faltered for a moment and he leaned forward on the table, brows pulling together slightly.

“Well,” Harry said, drawing the word out, “you should bring him to visit, then.”

Dick’s pulse leapt at that, and he knew Nix could hear the difference. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“No, but I didn’t think you shacking up with a vampire was a good idea, either, and that seems to have turned out okay.” At that, Nix cocked his head, and his lips twitched. “Look, Dick,” Harry said, sighing, suddenly serious. “You’ll never know unless you give it a shot. I can’t promise there won’t be questions, but they know the rules as well as you do—no one’s going to hurt him under my roof. Besides,” he added, almost reluctantly. “Kitty wants to meet him.”

“Well,” Dick said, breath still tight in his chest at the thought of taking Nix into the hunters’ den, “You know I have a hard time saying no to Kitty.”

Harry snorted. “Don’t we all.” Then, his voice grew serious again. “Seriously, though, just let me know if the two of you decide it’s worth the risk. I think he could do a lot of good here if he’s as good as he says he is.”

Dick nodded. “He is.” He met Nix’s eyes across the room again and this time he held them. Nix’s throat bobbed, almost in slow motion, and then he nodded his head. Dick’s chest tightened, but he nodded back and said “You can tell Kitty we’ll be there in a couple days.”

“Alright,” Harry said, “see you then.”

After Dick ended the call, he leaned back against the wall and simply looked at Nix for a moment, taking in all of the details he’d come to appreciate—the thick, slightly uneven brows, the plush lips, quirked into a tentative smirk, dark eyes staring back at him. He cleared his throat. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Nix said, pushing away from the table and rising to his feet. He sauntered across the room until he came to stand in front of Dick, who still stood with his hands shoved in his pockets. “I know these people are important to you, so I think it’s about time we met.” Nix reached forward, his pale hands sliding up Dick’s chest, his neck, to cup his face in his hands. He leaned forward, so close, and murmured, “Besides, you’ll be with me.” His lips twitched and Dick felt his exhale. “We’ll be okay.” Then he leaned that last inch and brushed their lips together and Dick allowed his shoulders, finally, to relax.

* * *

“Feel better about it, now?” Nix asked, glancing at Dick from behind the wheel of his convertible. The sun had gone down an hour ago and they were on their way back to Pennsylvania to visit Currahee. They’d been locked in something of a battle over the last couple days. 

Nix had finally told Dick about his conversation with Harry and his decision to help a couple of days after Dick had returned from his hunt. Things had been…better between them. More relaxed, since then. Nix fought a battle within himself every single day he was around Dick, but it no longer felt like he was fighting alone, and that made a world of difference. 

He and Harry had finally convinced Dick that it was worth a try to take him to the hunter bar, but Dick was still nervous, and had been for days now. He was very stubborn—one of the things Nix loved about him—and somewhere along the line, he’d decided he was going to protect Nix. Funny, that. But true. Even if that meant protecting Nix from his own stupid decisions. According to Dick, this was one of them.

Granted, Nix knew the plan wasn’t foolproof, and he knew it was a gamble, a vampire walking into a hunter bar, but he also knew that he was serious about Dick, and he intended to be with the hunter for as long as he would have him. Which meant getting more comfortable in his world, and doing whatever he could to try to protect Dick as well. This seemed like a pretty good way to start.

Still, Dick had held out. He’d refused to budge, even after Harry had issued the formal invite. So, they’d compromised. Though, Nix thought, even the compromise made him feel like he’d won. Dick had eventually agreed to take Nix, so long as they found a separate place to stay. He would not take the chance of them sleeping at Currahee in one of the guest rooms. Apparently, Dick was willing to take the chance of them being able to defend themselves while they were awake if they had to, but he wasn’t willing to trust that they’d be safe while they slept. Or rather, while Nix slept, because he was pretty sure Dick’s friends wouldn’t kill him over this. So, those were his terms. Nix had obliged. In fact, it was really easy to agree to stay someplace else once he reasoned that he would find them a good place. A place that met his standard, of course. 

Dick glanced over at him and rolled his eyes, though his frown threatened to turn into a smirk. “I don’t see why we have to stay at a resort, Nix.”

Nix smiled. “Because you agreed to let me handle the reservations.”

Dick huffed. “A motel would’ve worked just fine.”

Nix scoffed. “Workable, yes. Sure. But _why _stay at one if you don’t need to?”

“This is expensive, Lew.”

Now it was Nix’s turn to roll his eyes, though he focused on the road once more. “Not for me.” And he knew _that _was the crux of the problem—they came from vastly different financial worlds. Dick was hardworking and he saved every penny because that’s what he’d always done. Nix came from a wealthy family and he’d always had whatever he wanted if money could buy it—that hadn’t changed since he’d become a vampire. In fact, he’d simply had longer to acquire wealth. And he had a lot of it. He liked to use it. Extravagance was a bit of a personality trait and Nix had made a brand of being flashy, but this was more than that.

“Nix.”

“Dick.” Nix turned on the headlights as the sky grew darker and the road grew busier with other cars. “Look, this place is nice enough that they’ll have security but won’t ask too many questions of their guests. That’ll be good for us, coming and going at all hours of the night. And I booked us a suite—they have a kitchenette for my blood and a restaurant on site. Plus, they’ll leave us alone during the day if we ask them to and won’t insist on cleaning the room. I think it’s worth it.” Nix waved a hand airily, “Anyway, I have the money, why not use it? This way you can relax a bit and get some decent sleep.” He turned and met Dick’s eyes, briefly, when he said “Let me do this. Please.” It worked.

Dick sighed once more and said “Alright. Fine.”

“Thank you,” Nix murmured, and a smile curled the edge of his lips.

* * *

Dick was pleasantly surprised by the resort—he wasn’t quite sure what he’d been expecting, but probably more glitz and glam than he found. The resort was classy but understated. The main lounge was decorated in creams, dark browns, and other earthy colors. He was pleased to see that the color palette continued into their suite, which was large but again, not overdone. They hauled their bags into the room and dumped them near the door, having waved off the young man who had offered to help them carry. Inside, a large king-sized bed framed in dark wood and covered in a fluffy, creamy duvet dominated one section of the room. The other section contained a table and a couple chairs, as well as a loveseat. One wall contained the promised kitchenette and Nix immediately set to unpacking his numerous bottles of blood. As he did so, Dick thought to himself, again, that he really hoped housekeeping respected the _Do Not Disturb _sign the way that Nix had assured him they would. While Nix was doing that, Dick peeked into the bathroom and was pleased to find a rather large shower. A small shiver went down his spine at the possibilities.

Suddenly, lean but strong arms wrapped around his middle and Nix pressed his body along Dick’s back so that his chin perched on Dick’s shoulder. “We could always call it a night and stay in if you want,” Nix murmured in his ear. “Head to the bar tomorrow after we’ve had some R&R.”

Dick chuckled, and he felt a knot in his chest loosen. “As good as that sounds, I think you were right the first time. We should head out.”

Nix sighed and pressed a quick kiss to Dick’s shoulder before he pulled away. “Alright.” When Dick turned to him, Nix held his arms out self-consciously at his sides and said “Well…how do I look? Innocuous and innocent enough?” Dick could see the genuine worry in Nix’s eyes and it made his heart ache to know that despite what Nix said, this was a huge step for him. And he was doing it for Dick, though he’d never said it outright. “I’m not giving off too many creature of the night vibes, am I?” He prompted, when Dick didn’t answer right away.

Dick smiled and pretended to think about it for a moment, while he let his eyes rake over Nix. The vampire was dressed in dark jeans, a green t-shirt, boots, and one of Dick’s plaid over-shirts. He’d look like a hunter, if it wasn’t for that _something _that Nix always exuded. And he looked damned good in Dick’s clothes. “You look perfect, Nix.” Dick promised. “You’ll fit right in.”

“Great,” Nix said, lips quirking despite the tension he still held in his shoulders. “Let’s go meet the family.”

* * *

Ron paused, foot still poised above the sidewalk, and he frowned, setting it down slowly, deliberately. Something had changed. He rolled his shoulders and cast his glance around him, but it wasn’t here, wasn’t so simple. He closed his eyes and reached as far as he could with his demonic senses. His eyes popped open, then narrowed dangerously. 

He couldn’t sense Carwood anymore. At first, he felt a surge of…something rise up in him. _Panic? _Is that what humans called that feeling? Was that it? Probably not. But _something. _It was short lived, however, when he realized that it wasn’t that Carwood was in pain or that Ron felt a deep loss. No. He simply couldn’t sense Carwood at all anymore. Like he’d simply vanished.

Ron growled in the back of his throat and clenched his fist. He’d felt that before, and suddenly he had a very good idea of the cause. It was _that witch. Again. _That same fucking witch who’d created the ward around Winters’ house. The witch who’d kept Carwood from him before. It had to be the same one. Ron had never encountered a ward that had so completely blocked him before, and he doubted that Carwood knew more than one witch strong enough to pull that off. So.

Ron forced his jaw to relax and shrugged his shoulders once more. He rolled his head back and forth a couple times until his neck cracked. Alright. This was fine. He simply had to reevaluate his strategy.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and continued down the sidewalk, continuing east, because it was as good a direction as any, at least for the moment. 

It frustrated him that it had come to this. He understood that Carwood was mad at him, and he supposed he even understood the instinct—Ron had, after all, lied to him and apparently pissed off Carwood’s partner. But this? Ron had thought it was bad enough when Carwood told him not to call anymore and hung up on him. It’d been worse to find that the phone number no longer worked. But this? This?! Carwood had gone through the trouble of hiding himself from Ron, and he could admit to himself that it hurt. How in the world was he meant to make amends to the hunter if he couldn’t speak to him?

But it was fine. Ron could be patient when he needed to be. And for Carwood? He could be very patient. Patient enough to find the hunter and explain himself. Patient enough to win him back. Patient enough to explore other avenues of finding him. First, he’d try the phone again, and hopefully that’d work. But barring that? Well, then he’d just have to find the witch.

He’d been searching for days, ever since leaving Chicago. And he’d gotten close, he was sure of it. Returning to Pennsylvania, Ron had felt a familiar pull and he’d realized it was Carwood. The warmth, the strength—it couldn’t be anyone else. So he’d followed it, quickly but methodically. Occasionally, though, something interfered with his senses and the beacon of Carwood’s soul became obscured. In those long, frustrating moments, Ron consoled himself with the fact that Carwood was still alive, and out there somewhere. Ron just had to find him. 

Two days ago, Ron had acquired a phone and called him. It had been joyous torture to hear Carwood’s voice, even for the brief moment the call had lasted. It was the sweetest thing Ron had ever heard, and he’d longed for more of it. The first time, he’d stared at the phone, dumbfounded, and at a loss for words when Carwood had answered. In all honesty, he hadn’t expected the hunter to pick up. And when he had, suddenly Ron realized that he didn’t know what to say—what he _could _say. Furthermore, what he needed to say should be said in person, where he could hold Carwood in his arms again and look into his eyes, so that the hunter could sense his sincerity. But he’d allowed the moment to slip through his fingers.

The second time, Carwood somehow realized it was him. At first, they’d both hung there, quietly, simply listening to each other breathe, and Ron never realized how much that might mean to him, how important it was that he just know that Carwood was _alive, _and _breathing. _And he might’ve been content with that, alone. But then: “Ron? Is that you?” And finally, “Don’t call me again.” Ron had frowned down at the phone, frustrated once more. So, Carwood was still upset with him. Didn’t he realized that’s _why _they needed to talk? Then Ron could at least explain himself. And while Carwood was a hunter, and Ron was a demon, he knew Carwood was a good person first and foremost, and he was a reasonable person. He’d listen. Ron knew he would.

The next day when he’d tried to call, the number had been disconnected. Ron’s silent, seething frustration had been enough to spook the birds in the trees and they’d fluttered away. 

It was about that time he first noticed it—the smell of sulphur, caught on the wind, faint, but there. Hell, trailing on his heels. Ron narrowed his eyes but scoffed. Maybe he’d underestimated him and Cobb really had found his way out of the Pit. No matter. What did Ron have to fear from piss-ant demons like Cobb? Ron wasn’t like them. He was _more _than them. They were nothing. And he had things to do.

He was very frustrated by how effective the witch was, and Ron had to admit a grudging respect for the creature. It took a lot to thwart a demon like himself, and somehow this witch had managed to do it twice. Ron was demon enough to admit that he wanted to meet the witch, to have a conversation with him. He wasn’t sure where exactly that conversation would lead yet, but he wanted to have it. He wanted to pick the witch’s brain, to see what made it tick. Maybe he’d convince it to work for him. Maybe not. Either way, he needed to find it first, and considering it was the thing standing between himself and Carwood, he was making it a priority.

At first, the only way he was able to track the witch was by noticing where things were _not _when they should have _been. _He’d encountered places and things like that before, strong wards, but this witch was able to effectively hide whole areas and people. No witch Ron had ever encountered during his time on earth had been able to do pull that off before. Yes, Ron was intrigued. He hoped the witch was reasonable. It would be a shame, after all, to have to kill such a talented individual.

* * *

In New York, Ron found the sort of assistance he needed. For surprisingly little money, a man named Frankie was willing to find Carwood’s new phone number for him, and also to trace its general location. While Ron was happy for the information, he found it slightly humorous how easy it was for humans to find each other with their new technology. He wondered if they realized it was so easy. He wondered if they realized how dangerous that was. The witch did, obviously. 

For less than $500, Ron was able to determine that Carwood was somewhere in Philadelphia, though Frankie’s technology (or his conscience, if he had one) were unable to give him any more accurate location. It didn’t matter. It was enough.

Ron made his way to Philadelphia.

* * *

Lounging on the balcony of his hotel room, Ron looked out at the city and dialed the new number. It rang twice before the line clicked and Carwood’s voice answered “Hello? Who is this?”

Ron sucked in a breath at the sound of the hunter’s voice and swallowed thickly. “Don’t hang up,” he said, and he could hear Carwood’s breath hitch on the other line as he identified Ron’s voice. “We need to talk.” The line was quiet, but Ron could still hear Carwood’s breath, so he knew he hadn’t hung up yet. “I know you’re upset with me, but I’d like to explain myself, if you’ll give me the chance.”

“What is there to explain?” Carwood finally asked, and his voice was shaky, but trying to be hard. Ron smiled softly. Even now, Carwood couldn’t manage to squash his natural empathy. 

“I can explain my choices. Why I did what I did. That I never meant to hurt you.”

“Don’t.” Carwood interrupted, voice biting. “Don’t.” He repeated, softer this time. Ron could hear him suck in a couple ragged breaths. Then “Why should I listen to you at all? You’re a demon. I don’t owe you anything.”

Ron sighed and tipped his head back against the doorjamb. A cool fall breeze ruffled his hair. “You’re right. You don’t owe me anything. But I do owe you an explanation.” Ron fidgeted with the pack of cigarettes in his pocket but withdrew his hand before he felt compelled to light one. _After_. “Will you meet me?”

Ron should’ve expected it, but still, it _hurt _in a uniquely, twisting way when Carwood laughed abruptly across the line. “Why in the world would I do that?” He laughed again, almost like the sound was punched out of him against his will. It sounded painful. “I know you’re the demon who was hired to kill me.”

Alright, so Carwood apparently knew more than Ron had imagined, but that didn’t surprise him at all—Carwood was smart, and he was a good hunter. Ron sighed. “That’s true, but you also know that I had many opportunities to harm you and I chose not to.”

“Why?” Carwood asked, voice trembling, despite his best efforts to hide it.

“Meet me.” Ron closed his eyes. “Please.” The line was quiet for a long time, then, and Ron could barely even hear Carwood’s breath now. “You don’t have to be afraid,” Ron assured. “Your witch has hidden you quite effectively from me.”

“Good.”

“Carwood.” Ron said, putting as much emotion as he could into one single word.

“Fine.” Carwood eventually relented. “Fine. But it’ll be a place of my choosing. One meeting. That’s all you get.”

“Alright.” Ron acknowledged.

“I’ll text you the time and place.” Carwood heaved in another deep breath, then said, “And if you try anything, just know that I won’t hesitate.” And with that, he ended the call.

Ron huffed out a heavy breath and finally allowed himself to pull out a much needed cigarette. He lit it and sucked in a breath of smoke, then another, before he allowed his lips to curl into just the hint of a smile. 

_Progress._ This was progress.

The scent of Hell wafted on the breeze.

* * *

“So…come here often?” Babe asked, leaning across the bar as sexily as he could, polishing a glass while he grinned.

Gene quirked a brow at him. “I’m new in town.”

Babe hummed under his breath, nodding. “So you here for business or pleasure?”

Gene flicked his eyes from Babe’s, down to his lips then back again. He smirked. “A little bit a’ both, I s’pose.”

Babe huffed, blushing, and he pushed back from Gene before he got carried away. Behind him, Bill rolled his eyes and muttered “For Christ’s sake.”

Babe chuckled, ignoring his best friend, and said, more serious now, “You want another, Gene?”

“Sure,” Gene said, digging into his pocket for a couple bills.

“Don’t even think about it, Doc,” Toye warned, waving toward Gene. “You’re money ain’t any good here.” Then, “Babe, get the man another beer.”

“Thank you,” Gene murmured, twisting the cap off his new beer and taking a long swallow, his eyes tracing the dim lights of the bar.

“Not a problem.” Joe said, before moving over to serve other customers.

“So,” Bill said, nudging Babe out of the way so that he could lean against the bar, arms crossed, and talk to Gene. “How long you thinkin’ of stickin’ around, Doc?”

Gene’s eyes flicked up to Babe’s, just for a moment, then he shrugged, and turned his attention back to Bill, who didn’t fail to miss the look. “Not quite sure yet.” Gene admitted.

“Got anything you need to get back to?” Bill pressed, and God, Babe wanted to smack his friend when he saw the shadow pass across Gene’s face. He knew the man was thinking about Renee, and about the people in the parish who depended on him.

“Some,” Gene conceded. “But it’ll hold for a little bit longer.”

“Well,” Bill continued, “I just wanna let you know that you’re welcome to stick around for as long as ya want. Really.”

“Thanks, Bill.” Gene said, his pale lips tugging up into a genuine smile. And Babe couldn’t help getting distracted by it, again, like he always did. It was a rare thing to see Gene Roe smile but when he did, it was like it lit up the whole room. And that wasn’t an exaggeration. 

It had been a couple days since Gene had told him about New Orleans, and Babe would be lyin’ if he said that he hadn’t been thinking about it on and off since then. 

Life had gotten back on track and Babe went back to work at the bar in the evenings. He half expected Gene to take off, but he hadn’t yet. Instead, he accompanied Babe to the bar every night and waited patiently, beer in hand, for Babe to do his job. He felt Gene’s eyes on him, warm, possessive, when Babe smiled at other customers and pushed their drinks across the bar. But Gene never said anything about it—he simply watched, and occasionally, he’d quirk a brow at Babe or smile softly, and Babe’s heart beat crazily in his chest, because this man—this powerful, sexy, incredibly kind man—was here, waiting, for him. And that still felt completely unreal.

Babe’s musings were jarred a moment later when Malarkey slid onto the stool next to Gene and smiled at him, while Julian and Skinny came up behind him, also grinning. “Evenin’, Doc.” Malarkey said, tipping his head slightly. “How’s it going?”

Gene smiled at Malarkey and his dark eyes actually brightened. “Doin’ good. How ‘bout you?”

“Oh, fine. Just fine. Wonderin’ if you could help us out, though.”

Suddenly, Gene’s brows furrowed and his face grew serious. “Sure. What is it?”

Malarkey grinned softly. “You play pool, Doc? Me and the boys are wanting to get a game started, but there’s only three of us. We need another guy. Wanna play?”

And Babe’s heart thumped wildly in his chest when Gene’s shoulders relaxed and, nodding his head, said “Sure, I could play.”

“Great!” Malarkey clapped a hand on Gene’s shoulder and motioned for him to follow. Gene took another gulp of his beer, cast Babe a fond glance, then got up to follow the others. 

For the next hour, Babe watched, covertly, as Julian and Skinny kicked Gene and Malarkey’s asses at pool. Still, it was beautiful—Gene, taking occasional gulps of beer, loose and relaxed in jeans and one of Babe’s t-shirts, lounging in Toye’s bar with all of Babe’s friends. Babe had never imagined anything like this, but now that he had it, he couldn’t imagine anything else.

It amazed him that this man, this wonderful, beautiful man, who held him close at night and chatted with his mother over dinner, who played pool with his friends and shot him heated glances over his beer, was the same man who had fought demons and witches, and death, and won, over and over and over again. It was almost too much. It blew Babe’s mind, and he couldn’t figure out what in the world he’d ever done to deserve someone like Gene, but he was damn glad he had him. And it hurt Babe’s heart to think of Gene leaving—getting on a plane and heading back to Louisiana, without him. 

Too much had changed. They’d come too far for that. Babe didn’t want to sleep in his room alone anymore. And he wanted to flirt with Gene at the bar, and he wanted his Ma to coddle the other man, and feed him good food, and tell him that he was too skinny. He wanted those things. He needed them.

The hours passed by slowly, but pleasantly. Babe served dozens of customers and joked with Bill and Joe behind the bar. He took a break at one point, outside back behind the kitchen. Gene paused his game of pool—the guys had now been joined by Luz, Lipton, and Perconte—to join him outside so that they could make out softly away from prying eyes. And yeah, Babe was never gonna get enough of that. The feel of Gene’s hands cradling his face, carding through his hair. The man’s soft lips against his own, the hitch in Gene’s breath when Babe pressed him back against the wall. 

And the whole night, Babe’s mind was working. Thinking, and thinking, and thinking. And he knew he had some decisions he’d have to make soon. But not yet. Not tonight.

When his shift was over and Babe had helped to clean up the bar, he and Gene made their way back to Babe’s house, hands clasped warmly. Babe nudged Gene’s shoulder halfway there, and, casting Gene a look, said “So, uh…sort of a random question.”

“Alright.”

“You been to a club since you left New Orleans?”

Gene laughed, obviously expecting something else. “Nope. Not exactly my scene anymore.”

“Oh,” Babe said, deflating just a bit.

“Why?” Gene asked, hand squeezing Babe’s encouragingly.

“Thought it might be fun to take you while you’re here,” Babe said. “I’ve been thinkin’ about it since you mentioned it, actually.”

Gene quirked a brow at him. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Babe blushed, which was ridiculous, really, after everything they’d said and done together. Still…. “I wanna see you like that, Gene. I wanna dance with you.”

And Babe knew he wasn’t imagining it when Gene’s eyes darkened slightly. Gene licked his lips and said, “Well, I guess we’ll have to do it then, Edward. ‘Cuz I wanna dance with you, too.”

“So it’s a deal, then?” Babe said, trying for levity, though his pulse had begun to race.

Gene smiled softly and squeezed his hand once more, before he leaned up and pressed his lips to Babe’s. “Deal,” he murmured.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments are love and keep me motivated to continue writing. Please let me know what you thought and feel free to come say hi on tumblr. I'm @realhunterswearplaid.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [How do I look?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20834771) by [Lysel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lysel/pseuds/Lysel)


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